


Then, there is only silence.

by catboxjellyfish



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Psychological Drama, Psychological Horror, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboxjellyfish/pseuds/catboxjellyfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ CHANSOONET exchange gift fic ] Kyungsoo is a newbie journalist looking for his big break and he has his eyes on getting an exclusive interview with the mysterious CEO of Park Enterpreise: Park Chanyeol. However, when pride and curiosity gets the better of him, he finds out more than he'd like to know about the strange man. [warning for language and theme]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then, there is only silence.

A boy stood emotionlessly in front of a doll house taller than him. His large eyes glanced over each of the rooms, carefully examining the intricate decors and detailed micro furniture. Pale moonlight streamed in through the large window and gilded everything in the dark room in a veil of silver. Eleven pairs of glass eyes shone eerily on the floor. Neatly in a line, the dolls sat in a row on either side of the boy, their limbs limp and eyes empty. They all looked different, each with unique physical features and all of uncanny human likeliness. This pleased the boy, of how real they looked, because they made him feel less lonely. It was as if he was surrounded by humans, yet not quite. Trapped in a house where his parents were rarely home, the boy had no one but his dolls. They were his friends and companions, the ones he’d play with and speak to. Without the dolls, the boy would truly be alone.

Picking up one of the dolls with wide eyes and pouty lips, his favourite, the boy contemplated for a moment before placing it inside the most intricate master bedroom. Then with some deliberation, he allocated each of the dolls to a specific room based on the characteristics he had assigned his muted and unmoving friends. Soon, all the rooms in the dollhouse were occupied as the dolls lied face down on the floor. A hollow smile stretched out on the boy’s face as his gaze shifted unblinkingly from one doll to the next. Reaching out a hand slowly, he caressed each of the doll on the back its head with his small boney hand. The soft texture of the dolls’ hair tickled the pad of his fingers.  

“Good night, friends,” he whispered in the dark and the hollow smile on his face stretched a little wider, “sleep well.”

Then there was only silence.

\---

“Are you sure he will show up today?”

“He must. He is after all the largest shareholder and the owner of the Enterprise.”

“Well, I hope so. The last time we saw him was what, three years ago, at his father’s funeral?”

“That’s right… he sure does a good job hiding himself…”

“No kidding. I sure as hell would like some scoop on him.”

“Don’t we all? I thought the Park Enterprise would have collapsed after his father passed away, but I guess the kid has some ability.”

Kyungsoo glances casually at the two reporters gossiping quietly a few seats away. He is well aware of whom they were talking about; the person everyone in the room is waiting for. Medias from all sources, ranging from prominent business headlines to small online gossip columns, are packed into the hotel conference room and hundreds of cameras are pointing directly at the empty panel of five seats on stage. All the journalists in the room are double checking their sound equipment and camera, anticipating for the upcoming press conference.

Although the Park Enterprise is a pillar in the Korean economic world, as a company it has never attracted more attention than now. However, the main focus for many of the attending Medias is not the new product being released but the person that has decided to attend the press conference: Park Chanyeol, the current head of Park Enterprise. He is a mysterious man in the eye of public, the shadow figure behind one of the largest company in Korea. Who is he? What is he like? How come the public did not know of his existence until his father passed away three years ago, when he took over the company? All the journalists in the room hope these questions will be the least that will be answered today.

Looking down at the small memo pad in his hand, Kyungsoo taps quietly at the paper with the butt of his pen. He too like the many that have flocked to the conference, hopes to get any scoop on the enigmatic man. However, he pales far in comparison to the professional journalists in both equipment and experience. Twenty-two and fresh out of university with a bachelor degree in journalism, Kyungsoo is just a newbie looking for his big break. In a crowd of high tech recording equipment and confident faces, the young man looks particularly awkward with his notepad, basic recording pen and an old DSLR. Nevertheless, his disadvantages did not deter Kyungsoo one bit. Even if it means putting his life on the line, he is determined to get an exclusive interview with Park Chanyeol.

Suddenly, the conference room is filled with hushed whispers and the shutter clicks. Kyungsoo squints against the bright flashes all around him and focuses on the five people making their way up to the stage. In the centre, an exceptionally handsome man of remarkable height looked down at the crowd with cold eyes. His jet black hair is combed neatly and gelled back, revealing his smooth forehead and accentuating his sharp features. A special lonesome aura is flaring all around him and as he sits center staged, the frigidness of his presence seems to separate him from the rest of people on stage and it adds a touch of mysterious allure to him.

Captivated by unique aura given off by the silent CEO, the young journalist observes him intensely and more carefully. A wool suit jacket of ashen grey fitted snugly over a black turtle neck with matching grey suit pants, Park Chanyeol looks every part of an elite. Unblinkingly, Kyungsoo’s eyes trace over the man’s large frame and they eventually fall on the man’s large, boney hands. A single silver ring decorates his ring finger and his index finger brushes absentmindedly across the outline of his full bottom lip. The young journalist’s gaze glides across the man’s chiselled jawline and over his pointed nose, until it stops at the pair of down casted eyes half hidden behind thick, long lashes. They say the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, and Kyungsoo is itching to find out what dwells in the depth of Park Chanyeol’s being.

Then abruptly, as if he has heard the young journalist’s wish, the handsome man looks up and peers straight at Kyungsoo. Black orbs as dark and depthless as a miasmic swamp locks with eyes of shock and the journalist’s heart skips a beat from the strong impact of their eye contact. For a moment, he was looking into the eyes of a predator, one that hunts ruthlessly and kills without mercy. Unable to tear his eyes away, Kyungsoo finds himself trapped in an involuntary stare down and his eyes begin to sting. He can hear his breathing hasten and anxiety mounting in his heart. Finally, the corner of Park Chanyeol’s mouth twitches faintly upward and he smirks mockingly. Then as if nothing has happened, he casts his gaze and becomes indifferent to everything around him again.

Released from the intense eye contact, Kyungsoo lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His stomach wrenches in agitation; there was something unreadable in the man’s eyes that makes him feel sick. His sixth sense is warning him to stay as far away from this man as possible and his instinct is screaming that Park Chanyeol is dangerous; getting involved with him will be like a moth playing with fire. But his pride is fighting back fiercely and the tiny flame of greed for fame and recognition burns persistently in his chest. If he could get an exclusive interview with the man, even just a short one, it could very well be his chance to sky rocket into the journalism profession. Something tells him that he has a chance, that the eye contact just now wasn’t meaningless. Even if it’s just a thin slice of chance, he will take it.

The announcement for last three questions brings Kyungsoo back to the conference and snapping his head up, his eyes focuses on the man sitting centre stage again. Park Chanyeol is still looking uninterested at the hundreds of camera flashing almost constantly and he coolly ignores all the calls directed at him. Eyes hazy and completely emotionless, the mysterious CEO reminds Kyungsoo of the alligator he saw a few days ago on the discovery channel: cold-hearted and unimpressed, he remains motionless in a crowd of Media, chatting about like annoying flocks of birds. The young journalist grimaces at his thought; the resemblance is too uncanny.

Taking one more glance at the bored man on stage, Kyungsoo makes up his mind and decides to leave the press conference early. It is obvious he won’t have a chance fighting against his seniors and it doesn’t seem like Park Chanyeol will cooperate with answering questions publically either. So, he will have to capture the man in a more private setting instead. Swiftly getting out of his seat and shuffling across the aisle, the newbie journalist bows curtly in apology and disappears through the entrance. Unaware to him, a pair of eyes discreetly followed his every move.

Ducking staff members left and right, Kyungsoo stealthily sneaks into the resting area fenced off from the public. He hides himself in a corner by the room reserved for Park Chanyeol and patiently, he awaits for his chance.

When Kyungsoo checks his watch for the third time, a familiar lanky figure appears at the end of the hallway. The young journalist’s eyes light up and feeling extremely nervous, he shrinks further into the shadows. A thin layer of perspiration forms on his tensed up back as his gaze follows the man’s every stride. Head held high and hands shoved casually into his pants pocket, an air of ‘stay the fuck away’ seem to seep out of Park Chanyeol’s every pore. There is still not a trace of emotion on his handsome face and his grime eyes reflect no light. Without sparing a glance at the discreet corner Kyungsoo is hiding in, the taciturn man enters his prepared room and waves the bodyguards away. The hallway returns to its former quietness after the stocky bodyguards leave and Kyungsoo peeks out of the shadow. Checking left and right a couple of times, extremely cautious of getting caught, the young journalist tiptoes towards the door Park Chanyeol disappeared into. However, before he could muster the courage to knock, the door swings open. Like a deer caught in the headlight, Kyungsoo gawks in trepidation at the man glaring at him and his face pales. Then with a single tug on his wrist, he stumbles into the room and the door shuts behind him with a simple click.

“Hello.”

Park Chanyeol speaks first after a pregnant silence, his hand still clenching around the young man’s wrist. He smirks as Kyungsoo’s face pales even more before turning a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. The newbie journalist gulps nervously and avoids direct eye contact; even though the other man is smiling, Kyungsoo cannot find any speck of mirth in the pair of dark eyes staring him down. Choosing to look at the tip of their shoes instead, he replies quietly.

“Hello, Mr. Park.”

His voice is shaking along with his trembling body. Always have aspired to be a journalist, over the years Kyungsoo has mastered how to suppress his fear of speaking to strangers and crafted his timid demeanour into an appearance of calm. However, the unnerving gaze of the man standing in front of him is able to break through all of his pretences, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed like a helpless prey.

“You were the one that was staring at me earlier,” the taller man’s husky voice sounds above Kyungsoo’s head and the latter nods meekly. Chanyeol lowers his head too and tries to take a better look at the young man’s hidden face.

“You sure got guts, sneaking into the waiting area. What’s your name?”

The young journalist bites nervously into his bottom lip and all the worst possible scenarios went through his mind in light speed. He is arrested; he is arrested and sued; he is arrested, sued, and forced to sign some shady deal in addition to the legal case; he is going to be killed in this room.

When he receives no reply after a few seconds, Chanyeol impatiently grabs hold of Kyungsoo’s chin and roughly lifts his head. Dark, unfathomable orbs glares sharply into eyes of dread.

“I asked, what’s your name?”

“D-Doh Kyungsoo…”

Chanyeol narrows his eyes as he carefully looks over the young man’s face, his inspecting gaze gliding over the pair of wide eyes and traces down to the set of pouty lips hanging slightly agape. Then with his other hand, the taller man unexpectedly runs his boney fingers through Kyungsoo’s silky tresses. The tip of his nails scratch delicately across the young journalist’s scalp and the latter shudders as shots of shiver course down his back already covered in cold sweat. A spark quickly flashes in Chanyeol’s eyes before it dies out like a miffed out flame.

“Are you a journalist?” The taller man asks calmly, his hands still holding onto Kyungsoo’s chin and back of the head. The young man nods, unable to find his voice. Chanyeol stares unblinking at the nervous journalist in front of him for a few seconds longer, then stretching his cheek muscles upward and outward to his ears, he smiles broadly showing two rows of neat, pearly white teeth.

“Would you like to do an exclusive interview with me?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes snap open as wide as possible and his voice returns all of a sudden.

“What??” he screams loudly but quickly covers his mouth and whispers, “I mean, a-are you sure, Mr. Park? You’re not joking with me are you?”

The smile on Chanyeol’s face does not budge at all and he shakes his head firmly. Staring awkwardly at the man he has dreamed to interview, a hurricane of thoughts swirls around in Kyungsoo’s head. Isn’t this what he was aiming for? Yet now that his plan has become a reality, the young journalist cannot help but doubt the strangeness of the situation and his unusual good luck. He never has good luck. He has never won any lottery in the twenty-two years of his life and if anything, he is more prone to bad luck than good luck. The train always leaves right when he arrives on the platform and he cannot even count how many piles of dog poop he has stepped in.

“Why me?” He asks without thinking much and the other man retorts simply.

“Why not you?”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth then shuts it again. Why does it matter why him? Perhaps life has been saving all of his good luck for this moment. If so, then all the times he had stepped in shit sure were worth it.

“O-Okay, um. Yes, I’ll gladly accept!” The young journalists answers eagerly and the flame for success ignites fiercely inside him.

Noticing the other’s hands are still clamped around his head, Kyungsoo flashes Chanyeol an awkward smile and the taller man releases his holds. Taking a moment to regain his composure, the young man initiates the conversation this time around.

“Here is my card,” he says and hands over a business card with both hands. Chanyeol takes the card and gives it a brief glance before pulling out a pen from his inner coat pocket. Then flipping the card over, he scribbles some numbers and an address on the back.

“Um, Mr. Park?” Kyungsoo questions anxiously when his card is given back to him. Under the other’s unwavering gaze, the young journalist takes his card back feeling despondent and confused. Tucking his pen back away, Chanyeol explains coolly.

“I don’t like meeting people outside so you’ll have to come to my place for an interview. Three days from today at 2:00pm, wait at the north-west corner of the Park Enterprise building and a car will come pick you up. It will take you to me. Any question?”

The young journalist confirms the time and place written on the back of his card and he glances carefully at the other’s face. There seems to be no room for compromise but Kyungsoo does not mind; as long as he gets the exclusive interview with  _the_ Park Chanyeol, he could care less if they meet in a strip club. Nodding thankfully, he bows deeply and smiles happily, his mouth forming into a heart shape.

“No, no, not at all. Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Park. I’ll be sure to write an amazing article!”

Chanyeol bows slightly in return and a fake smile returns on his face, along with the mysterious spark that has previously flashed in his dark eyes.

“I’m sure you will,” he mumbles. When he sees that the younger man is no longer listening, he whispers quietly to himself and his smile widens slowly.

“I will be waiting, Kyungsoo.”

\---

Looking up at the dark walnut doors almost double his height, Kyungsoo laughs dryly.

“Fuck.” He mumbles and ganders disbelievingly at the large stone structure in front of him. Park Chanyeol’s home is like a small castle hidden in the woods; he did not think such a place even exists in Korea.

Awkwardly, he turns around in hopes that the driver would bring him inside. However, the old man has returned to the car and is already driving away, down the only path leading to the large estate. Bewildered at the lack of goodbye, Kyungsoo watches dumbfounded as the black Cadillac disappears around the bend. Thinking back, the young journalist does not recall the driver uttering a single word throughout the ride.

‘Maybe he’s a mute?’ Kyungsoo wonders to himself but decides quickly that it is not a matter worth spending his brain power on.

Curiously, he surveys his surroundings and sees nothing but pine trees from all sides; it is almost impossible trying to figure out where he is just by using his naked eyes. All he knows is that they were driving for about 3 hours; he has somehow fell asleep midway in travel. Shaking his cellphone in the air again, Kyungsoo sighs at the “no service” displaying on the upper left corner of the screen. If he is an avid horror movie fan, he’d suspect the large estate in the middle of nowhere is either haunted or the secret hide out of Park Chanyeol. But Doh Kyungsoo is a rational individual who does not believe in ghosts. The scenario of Park Chanyeol being a murderer on the other hand does make him feel a little paranoid. The secluded location of the estate and the lack of communications with the outside world add to his paranoia and an uneasy feeling settles in the back of the young journalist’s mind. However seeing the taller man  _is_ his ticket to fame and a brighter future, Kyungsoo decides to ignore all of his baseless suspicions.

Turning back to the intimating and grandiose structure in front of him, the young journalist inhales deeply and exhales shakily. Then steadying himself, he walks up the stone stairs and knocks firmly on the doors.

_Kong Kong._

Silence.

A few crows from nearby trees take flight into the evening sky and soar below the rolling clouds darkening the horizon.  Kyungsoo listens carefully for any noise on the other side, but all he could hear are the ominous caws of the crows and the faint rumbles of thunder in the distance. His frown deepens as his heart grows more and more restless. Taking another breathes and bracing himself, he knocks again, this time much harder.

 _Kong kong_.

Still silence.

Kyungsoo shuffles on the door step awkwardly and wonders what he should do. If he has the option of leaving, he would; unfortunately, he has no means of transportation (walking is not an option, Kyungsoo decides) and his phone refuses to work. Smacking his lips together and staring blankly at the dusty welcome mat beneath his feet, the young journalist silently panics in his head. The rumbling thunder approaches rapidly accompanied by flashes of lightning in the cloud covers, and Kyungsoo glances up at the blackening sky worriedly.

‘Of course,’ he thinks dejectedly and moves deeper into the protection of the front awning, ‘just my luck.’

Just then, the doors swing open from the inside and Kyungsoo jumps backward from surprise. A long whining creak echoes in the night and a lanky individual emerges from within the castle like structure. A strike of lightning hits the ground nearby and the vicinity lights up as bright as day for a split second. In the intense light, the young journalist’s eyes widen in shock at Park Chanyeol’s appearance. His emotionless face is ghastly pale and his dull onyx eyes appear hollow and abysmal like black holes. Kyungsoo gulps and thinks the man looks like a creepy vampire.

A booming clasp of thunder returns the world back to its previous darkness and gradually, all is quiet again. A polite smile has formed on Park Chanyeol’s handsome face and unblinkingly, he stares down at the frozen young journalist. Holding his breath and staring back at the taller man, Kyungsoo’s heart thumps violently. Finally, Chanyeol breaks the gaze first and he chuckles quietly at the shocked expression on the young journalist’s face. Stepping slightly to the side, he invites the guest into his home.

“Hello, Mr. Doh. Please, do come in.”

Kyungsoo nods frantically and enters. Tightly clutching his bag close to him, the young man is immediately overwhelmed by the lavish décor inside the estate. Above his head, a large antique chandelier is hanging from the tall ceiling and the hundreds of candle fire refract off of the crystals and softly illuminate the large entrance hall. Rosewood veneer furniture of Victorian style decorates the space, and intricate carvings and ornamentations enhance the already extravagant furnishings. Nameless but ancient paintings are lined up on the walls and the floor is covered in Persian rugs of various elegant designs. In awe, Kyungsoo gawks in a daze at the magnificence of Park Chanyeol’s home. For a moment, he thought he has traveled back in time to late 1800 England.

“Do you like my home, Mr. Doh?”

The home owner’s low husky voice brings the young journalist out of his amazement and turning around swiftly, Kyungsoo regards the taller man with eyes of admiration.

“Yes, your home is very beautiful, Mr. Park. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Kyungsoo says sincerely and bows. Then he shyly pulls out a box of tea bedecked in simple but sophisticated gold wrapping.

“Ah, this is a little something to show my gratitude. It’s probably nothing special to you, but I hope you will accept it.”

Chanyeol glances down at the small but classy box in Kyungsoo’s hand and he smiles. Bowing slightly, he receives the gift as the young man bows deeper, offering the gift politely with both arms.

“Thank you for your gift, I like it a lot,” the taller man replies calmly and a meaningful smirks replaces his previous smile, gone unnoticed by the bowing young man. Softly he whispers to himself: “I’m glad you like my home, Kyungsoo. It would be very disappointing if you didn’t.”

Unable to catch the other’s murmur, the young journalist questions as he straightens his back.

“Did you say something, Mr. Park?”

“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head and starts to walk towards the inner quarters of his home, “Let’s go to the library and we can do the interview there.”

Nodding obediently, Kyungsoo follows the taller man and he frowns a little in confusion; he swears he heard the other call his name. However, his attentions are soon diverted by the splendour of Park Chanyeol’s home and the young man quickly pushes his previous thoughts to the back of his head.

When both men have settled in their seats inside the large home library, Kyungsoo quickly begins his interview. Half an hour later, they went through all the standard questions regarding the Park Enterprise and Park Chanyeol’s position, as well as the tall man’s future outlooks as the new CEO. Looking down at his notes, Kyungsoo thinks for a moment before diving straight into topics him and many others are more interested in: the personal aspect of the mysterious man’s life.

“Do you live alone, Mr. Park?” The young journalist asks as the other man sips casually on the glass of red wine in his hand.

“Not exactly,” Chanyeol answers ambiguously and Kyungsoo pushes further.

“Does that mean there are other people living here with you? For a home this large, I assume you must have servants.”

“Yes, of course.”

Park Chanyeols smirks enigmatically, and the young journalist raises an inquisitive brow at the other’s vague and intriguing answers. Hiding his growing curiosity behind a polite smile, Kyungsoo continues to dig for information.

“Don’t tell me, you’re hiding a lover in his castle of yours, Mr. Park?”

Taking another sip of wine, Chanyeol looks straight into Kyungsoo’s gleaming eyes and answers calmly.

“I don’t have a lover. But would you perhaps would like to become my lover, Mr. Doh?”

Caught off guard, the young journalist blinks in surprise before letting out a couple of awkward coughs. Chuckling dryly, he faces the man across with forced amusement.

“Please don’t tease me like that, Mr. Park.”

Chanyeol smirks into his glass and moves on.

“My friends also live here with me,” the taller man says in nonchalant as he savours the smooth taste of the wine. Blinking questioning at the man sitting across, Kyungsoo patiently waits for him to say more. However, Park Chanyeol avoids his gaze and shifts his attention to swivelling the last bit of wine inside the crystal glass. Realizing he has hit a dead end, Kyungsoo jolts something down on his memo before asking another question.

“Do you have any special hobby, Mr. Park?”

“Special hobby?”

“Yes, special hobby,” Kyungsoo smiles encouragingly, his lips forming into a pretty heart shape, “not reading or golfing, but something that’s unique and sets you apart from everyone else.”

Park Chanyeol contemplates for a moment before he looks seriously at the young journalist.

“I do,” he casts his eyes slightly and his voice lowers in tone, “but I am afraid it might frighten you.”

Kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat and for a split second, his previous paranoia about Park Chanyeol being a murderer looms over his thoughts again but the young journalists quickly waves his suspicions away. Still smiling, he regains his usual calm and replies light-heartedly.

“Oh come on Mr. Park, we are both men. What could you possibly do as a hobby that’d frighten me! I am not scared that easily.”

Having caught the brief uneasiness flashing through the other’s clear eyes, Chanyeol smirks again and drains the wine in his glass.

“Very well then, Mr. Doh. If you insist,” the taller man says and gets up from his seat, “follow me.”

Exiting out of the large library, the two men stroll down the long hallway, dimly illuminated by antique lights mounted to the walls. Outside, the rain is thrashing violently against the windows and roofs. Kyungsoo glances warily at the horrible weather and his heart tightens nervously; a bad feeling is creeping on him. Shrugging his shoulders up and down, he tries to shake it off.

At the end of the long hallway, a set of black walnut doors appears, identical to the front door but half the height. Standing in front of the doors, Chanyeol places his hand on the brass handles and turns to face the shorter man standing stiffly beside him.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Mr. Doh?”

The taller man smirks and something other than mirth, something almost sinister, shimmers in his dark eyes. A flash of lightning descends from the sky again and casts their distorted shadows against the wooden door. Kyungsoo fidgets nervously and flashes a forced smile at the smirking man.

“Of course, Mr. Park.”

“Then, here it is,” the door slowly opens and the lamps placed around the room lights up immediately.

“Welcome to my Great Exhibition.”

Greeted by the unexpected and unusual scene before him, Kyungsoo blinks in stupor and his mind goes blank. All round the room are large display boxes and inside, stuffed furry creatures of all kinds are vividly enacting a typical human activity. One of the displays on the left side is decorated to resemble a Victorian school house. Two dozen stuffed bunnies and guinea pigs are crowded around rows of miniature long tables, and their paws are holding onto tiny pens and notebooks. Some of them are standing and some of them are sitting, but all of them are engaged in learning. A stuffed rabbit dressed like a professor from a century ago is placed in front of small black board and writing down equations.

On the other side of the room, there is another display decorated to depict a flower garden and a dozen stuff kittens are seated around a table meticulously covered with fake but realistic looking food and tea sets. Little bow ties, canes, and delicate frilly hats completed the kittens’ look of human likeliness and all the furry creatures are positioned in different postures. Some of them are chatting with their kitten friend next seat while others are pouring tea and sharing scones.

There are a total of over ten displays of animals taxidermy placed around the room. All the displays are made with small creatures, such as bunnies, kittens, rats, guinea pigs, squirrels or mini pigs. Kyungsoo’s wide eyes shift carefully from one display to another, starting with the left side of the room then to the right, and an uncomfortable knot twinges in the pit of his stomach. Although there is a certain whimsical charm to the displays, the young journalist cannot overlook the fact that the room is filled with dead, stuffed animals.

“So, what do you think?”

Park Chanyeol breaks the silence as he walks around in the room, carefully fingering some of the miniature furniture inside the display. Kyungsoo opens his mouth but no sound is coming out; shocked and abhorred at the other man’s unique collection, the young journalist is rendered speechless. When he receives no answer, Chanyeol does not seem to mind and he speaks instead.

“These are the replicas of the original collection made by Walter Potter. He was a famous taxidermist who made art pieces by using stuffed small games. These displays are done in a style called anthropomorphic taxidermy, which is considered to be a Victorian whimsy and many in that era decorated their home with the stuffed animals engaging in a series of human activities. But I guess in the 21st century, my collection is a little morbid?”

Park Chanyeol chuckles in nonchalant and Kyungsoo nods numbly. He walks up beside the taller man and cautiously glances over the small games positioned disturbingly in human like postures. A shiver runs down his back and he holds back the urge to shudder.

“D-did you buy these, Mr. Park? It must have been quite expensive collecting all of these displays.” Kyungsoo asks quietly. Chanyeol turns to face him as if he has just asked the most ridiculous question.

“Buy them? Oh no, I don’t do that,” the man chuckles again, his eyes squinting with glee as thin crinkles form around the corner of his eyes.

“I made them myself, all of them.”

Another shiver travels down Kyungsoo’s tense back and this time he shudders visibly. A genuine happy smile blooms on Park Chanyeol’s handsome face, but because of the eerie glow flickering in the man’s dark eyes, Kyungsoo thinks he looks somewhat sinister. Quickly looking away, the young journalist’s gaze darts aimlessly around the room and searched desperately for anything else to look at. Finally, it lands on the large doll house placed at the very back of the room. Although the doll house appears old, the young man could tell it has been taken good care of. Curious and keen to get away from the stuffed games all around the room, he walks up to doll house and scans over the familiar looking structure.

‘Ah!’ the young man realizes all of a sudden, ‘it looks like this estate!’

Standing in front of the structure almost as tall as he is, the young journalist peeks inside through the small windows. From the first floor up to the second floor, he counts eleven dolls in total, each placed in a room. All of the dolls are male and they are all really handsome. Kyungsoo thinks some of them can even be called pretty, like the one with puppy eyes sitting by the piano and the blond one in soccer uniform he has almost mistaken for a girl doll. Each of the dolls’ look is unique and their uncanny human resemblance makes the young man feel a little uncomfortable. If it wasn’t for the obvious emptiness in their glass eyes, Kyungsoo’d think they are real humans shrunken to doll size.

“The one in the eastern quarter master bedroom is my favourite.”

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s deep voice sounds from behind and Kyungsoo jumps a little. Feeling the other’s hot breath just mere inches away from his ear, the young man shifts closer to the doll house and peaks through the window pointed at by the boney finger from above his head. A doll slightly smaller than the rest, with black hair and porcelain skin is sitting on a large poster bed. A part of his glossy glass eyes are covered by thick long lashes and the doll’s plump lips are tinted red.

“Doesn’t he look like you?”

Chanyeol’s voice whispers from behind him and Kyungsoo’s body tenses. He too has noticed the resemblance and the knot at the pit of his stomach tightens even more. A thin layer of cold sweat forms on his back and the bottom of his dried lips wavers as he tries to speak. However before he could say something, the other’s cellphone interrupts the strange silence instead and Chanyeol walks a few steps away to pick up his call. Kyungsoo lets out a sigh of relief and he steadies his shaky knees, leaning against the doll house for support. ‘What was that…’ his mind races and he glances carefully at the other man’s broad back. The uncomfortable feeling is still stirring in the pit of his stomach and Kyungsoo frowns. Quickly checking his watch, he decides that it is time to leave. The longer he stays with the taller man, the more he realizes how unusual the man is. His instinct is warning him again of the danger that is Park Chanyeol; his paranoia grows stronger by the second and Kyungsoo becomes more wary of the fear growing silently in his heart. He doesn’t know why he is scared, but he knows he should be.

However, his plan to escape is ruined by the news from Chanyeol.  

“There is a mudslide and the only road to the estate is blocked. I am afraid you will need to stay the night.”

Thunder rumbles above the house and a pair of dark eyes looks straight into nervous orbs. Taking a step closer to the young man visibly troubled by the news, Chanyeol smiles his usual toothy grin. Cautiously, Kyungsoo takes a step back and his frown deepens. Ignoring of the other’s hesitance, the taller man extends a hand like a gentleman.

“I have already prepared dinner, Mr. Doh. Please join me.”

That was not an invitation but a command and Kyungsoo bits into his lower lip. Listening to the rain still thrashing about outside, the young man hesitates and the bottom of his right eye twitches ominously; his grandmother used to say that it is an omen for bad things about to happen. Under Park Chanyeol’s intense and unmoving gaze, Kyungsoo suddenly feels like a prey, helplessly trapped and at the mercy of the taller man’s hand.

“Mr. Doh.”

The boney hand inches closer to him and unable to refuse any longer, Kyungsoo finally takes the hand.

“Very good,” Chanyeol smiles wider and his unblinking gazes traces slowly over the journalist’s pale face.

“I am so very glad you could stay, Mr. Doh,” he says in his husky voice and a crow caws loudly outside, “so  _very_  glad.”

\---

Kyungsoo lays wide awake in the middle of the large poster bed and he stares in a daze at the intricate crown mouldings on the ceiling. The rain has stopped and the forest surrounding the estate is deathly silent. Listening to the pumping of his heart in the dark, the journalist prays for sleep to come but it seems the sandman has abandoned him for the night. The feeling of uneasiness is still tingling in his body and his brain buzzes nosily.

‘This room looks awfully like  _that_  room in the doll house,’ his mind reminds him out of the blue and the image of the doll surfaces before his eyes. Kyungsoo’s right eye twitches again and he lets out a shaky breathe. Kicking around underneath the cover, he tosses back and forth constantly. Until he is huffing and puffing, tangled messily with the cover and wrinkled bed sheet, he finally stops moving about.

However, he still cannot calm down.

His mind begins to conjure up a million and one ways of how he could die and about 90% of them involve Park Chanyeol killing him; 75% of which involve his corpse being stuffed and put on display, like the bunnies and squirrels downstairs. Shuddering at the unpleasant thought of being a part of the taller man’s collection, Kyungsoo sits up abruptly and smacks his hand on his forehead hard, trying to clear his mind. Feeling extremely anxious and even more paranoid, the young journalist hops off the bed and starts to pace around the room. The day processes rapidly through his mind as he tries to distract himself from his own imagination.

_“My friends also live with me.”_

Kyungsoo recalls Park Chanyeol’s words from the interview and he pauses from his pacing. Standing still in the darkness, a frown slowly forms on his face. Ever since he arrived, he did not see anybody aside from the home owner in the large estate; not even the supposed servants. However he is sure they are not alone in the small castle. He is certain not only because his instinct tells him so, but also because their dinner was obviously prepared fresh by someone and when he arrived at the bedroom earlier, pajama was already laid out for him on the bed as well.

‘Maybe the servants are his friend?’ The young journalist questions dubiously as more of the taller man’s words reply in his head.

Kyungsoo found out over dinner that Park Chanyeol grown up pretty much in solitude, as his parents were always busy. Frail and sickly as a child, he rarely had the chance to go outside. So to relieve his loneliness, his parents bought him the large doll house and the realistic looking dolls, hoping that they would compensate for the lack of human interactions he had while growing up. However, they were not expecting the opposite effect. As Park Chanyeol got older, he became more comfortable being surrounded by inanimate objects of human likeliness rather than real humans of flesh and bones. So when he came across a book on Victorian art décor and the works of Walter Potters, he began experimenting with animal taxidermy. He started with the small games, like rats and squirrels, and eventually moved on to larger games, like the bunnies and kittens. As his skill improved, he became voracious to experiment with larger creatures.

“I know my hobby is really strange but this is who I have come to be,” Chanyeol said flatly as he forked a cherry tomato around on his plate, “It is not my fault. I feel lonely too.”

Kyungsoo looked up from his food and stared speechless at the taller man’s cool façade, pangs of pity and dread hitting his heart.

_“It is not my fault. I feel lonely too.”_

Park Chanyeol’s voice echoes again in his head and Kyungsoo resumes his pacing. No doubt, he sympathizes with the taller man’s past but his discomfort around human perplexes the young journalist: if Park Chanyeol really is uncomfortable with people like he claimed, then why would he invite his friends to stay in his home? Kyungsoo can understand why the servants are living in the house because they are necessary for caretaking purposes; but, friends? Is the man so lonely that he invited his friends to live with him despite his discomforts? If so, how come Kyungsoo didn’t see them at all, even during dinner? There doesn’t seem to be any signs of other people living in the estate either; the young journalists had been meticulously observing everything around him.

So then, where are these ‘friends’?

‘Maybe his friends are sick,’ his mind answers naturally as if trying to stop him from getting into more unnecessary troubles, ‘maybe Park Chanyeol doesn’t want you to disturb their privacy. You are after all a journalist.’

However, if Kyungsoo could be so easily satisfied, he wouldn’t be stuck in a stranger’s creepy estate in the middle of nowhere right now.

A mixture of pure curiosity and need to uncover as much dirt on Park Chanyeol as possible stirs restlessly inside Kyungsoo’s mind and he is itching to go exploring. He’s not sure what he is looking for, perhaps the friends the lanky man is hiding or maybe something more shocking, but the lack of clear direction does not deter him one bit. Contemplating a moment longer, the young man gives in to his nosiness and he quickly grabs his phone off the bedside table. Tiptoeing out of the door of his bedroom, he slips into the night.

His room is located at the most eastern end of the second floor and the dark hallway seems to stretch into infinity. The dim light from his phone screen is practically useless in the darkness and Kyungsoo clicks it lock without any hesitation. Patiently, he stands by the entrance of his room and waits for his eyes to adjust to the night. When he can vague make out the outline of the many doors lined up on either side of the hallway he stealthily but slowly moves forward. Barefoot, the soft bristles of the rug tickles lightly at the palm of his feet. One step, then two; waving away the eerie feeling of being watched, Kyungsoo walks towards the first door while holding his breath. After some aimless fumbling, he jolts at the coolness of the brass door handle against his skin. Grabbing hold tightly, he inhales slowly and begins to twist the knob. However, the door is locked and young man’s sweaty hand simply wiped around the knob one round. Slightly disappointed but not in the least discouraged, Kyungsoo sneaked his way to the next door across the hall.

This continued for a while, exactly how long the young man isn’t even sure. After failing to open a dozen doors, he finally comes across one that is unlocked. Feeling surprised and ecstatic as the knob in his hand twists along with the slight movement of his wrist, Kyungsoo steadies himself before completely unlocking it. The retracting click of the latch bolt echoes loudly down the silent hallway and the young man cringes at the noise. Frozen in his crouching position, he peers around cautiously around as his heart thumps erratically. When he sees nothing but darkness, he carefully pushes at the door.

Slowly, a crack opens up and pressing his face against the narrow opening, he peeks inside. Having completely adjusted to the night, most of Kyungsoo’s vision has returned. Scanning around, he spots a bed, a table in the middle of the room and a couple of bookshelves lined up by the wall. In the furthest corner beside a floor lamp, someone is sitting in a large arm chair. Kyungsoo stiffens when he spots the figure in the corner but soon relaxes a little when he realizes he is still inconspicuous. Gulping nervously, his mind races in frenzy out of pure excitement; he had his doubts about the existence of these ‘friends’ Park Chanyeol mentioned. But now he has seen one, although not clearly but has indeed spotted one, the young journalist is already thinking of all the questions he could be asking of this friend.

Calming his racing heartbeat, Kyungsoo peers at the shadowy figure in the corner again and contemplates how he should greet the new stranger. The person has not moved once since Kyungsoo saw him and the young man assumes he must have fallen asleep. Squinting as hard as he can, the journalist focuses on the figure’s face in the darkness: 3:7 parted short black hair, high nose bridge, thin lips and sharp jawlines that look like it could cut through air like a knife.

‘Hm?’ Kyungsoo hums as a sense of familiarity washes over him. He has seen the face in the shadow somewhere before, but where? Pulling away from the door, the he desperately tries to recall as he shuts the door with utmost care. With a simple click as the latch bolt returns to its original place, Kyungsoo remembers and his eyes widen.

‘The doll house,’ his mind mumbles shakily, ‘there is a doll that looks almost exactly the same as that man...’

“What are you doing here?”

A breathe of hot air gusts by Kyungsoo’s ear and all the hair on his neck shoots up, standing stiffly on its roots. Park Chanyeol’s husky voice whispers coldly from close behind the journalist. Scared out of his wits, the young man’s knees almost buck. Before he could even let out a squeak, a large boney hand seals over his mouth and Kyungsoo’s breathe hitches painfully in his throat. Overwhelmed by shock and fear, a deafening ring buzzes in his head and dizziness distorts his vision. The young man’s body goes completely limp as Park Chanyeol puts him into a headlock from behind. Scared stiff like a corpse, Kyungsoo couldn’t even put up a fight as he is dragged roughly further down the hallway.

Once they are inside a room, Park Chanyeol swiftly shuts the door behind him and throws Kyungsoo against the back of the door. Bouncing off the hard wooden surface, the young man collapses to the ground with a dull thud and he begins to cough, gasping desperately for air. His chest rises up and down dramatically as if he is on the verge of hyperventilating and his trembling arms are barely supporting his body off of the floor. Chanyeol squats down to eye level with the journalist and he glares menacingly. Kyungsoo shrinks backward automatically and presses himself against the wooden door, his arms flailing about in a panic as his hands searched for anything to grab hold of.

“Care to explain why the fuck you were sneaking around my estate in the middle of the night?” Chanyeol hisses and his dark eyes glow dangerously with rage, “I know journalists are nosey but I thought you’d be different. I guess I was too naïve. You’re all the same trash, disgusting human trash.”

Cowering away from the angry man’s piercing gaze while shaking his head hysterically, Kyungsoo stutters quietly. His voice is hoarse and his gaze is wandering about, looking anywhere but the grim face merely inches away from his own.

“No, no, I’m not! No, I was just c-curious! Y-you said your friends are living with you, an-and I just wanted to meet them too, that’s all! I didn’t mean to offend, I’m sorry, Mr. Park!”

Eyeing the terrified young man up and down with disdain, Chanyeol narrows his eyes and leans even closer. Kyungsoo shudders uncontrollably as the other’s hot breathe falls over his face, burning fear into his skin.

“Too late, I am already offended,” the taller man hisses bitterly, “you have two choices right now, Mr. Doh. One, you disappear out of my sight at the count of three; or two, you continue your journalistic investigation and learn more about the darker side of me.”

Kyungsoo focuses his attention on Park Chanyeol instantly. The man is looking down at him like a predator ready to tear its prey apart and a sinister smirk is dangling on his lips. From the depths of the other’s gaze, Kyungsoo’s sharp eyes spot a gleam of maniacal glee. A sickening feeling punches the journalist repeatedly in the stomach and he suppresses the urge to throw up. He cannot believe Park Chanyeol is having fun intimidating and terrorizing him.

“One.”

Chanyeol’s deep voice echoes in the night like a murmur from hell and it sends Kyungsoo scrambling to get on his feet again. Grabbing onto the door knob above his head, the young man pulls himself up with difficulty and he almost fall again when numbness pricks painfully at his feet.

“Two.”

The buzzing in his head returns and half leaning against the heavy door, Kyungsoo’s sweaty hands grip and twist desperately at the doorknob, but it refuses to open. Pulling and pushing until the entire door is shaking violently against the frame, the young man whimpers pitifully at the jammed lock. In the darkness, the urgent rattling echoes throughout the large estate.

“Three.”

Just then, the door unlocks in the last millisecond and it swings open with excessive force. Flung into the hallway, Kyungsoo’s face hits the floor first and his cheek rubs crudely against the carpet lining the hallway. Ignoring the burning pain on his face, the young man crawls forward madly as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

“Time’s up.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen fearfully and his entire body shudders at the sound of Park Chanyeol’s voice. He shoots up and as the last of his adrenaline surges through his tired body, the young journalist makes for his escape down the hallway without looking back. Running faster than he has ever before in his life, despite being barefoot and barely able to see anything in the darkness, Kyungsoo sprints all the way back to his room.

After what it seems like an eternity to the terrified young man, he finally reaches his room. Slamming the door behind him and locking it immediately with fingers that won’t stop shaking, he leans against the back of the door and gasps frantically for air. His heart thumps loudly in his ears and slowly, he slides downward and curls up in a ball on the floor. Panting, he buries his face inside folded arms. He isn’t sure what evil looks like but he thinks it probably looks similar to Park Chanyeol’s smirking face.

Gradually, Kyungsoo calms down and his body recovers from the earlier fright. In the blinding darkness, he lets out an exasperated sigh. As his mind clears up more, his paranoia and the bad feeling brewing at the pit of his stomach resurface.

“What the fuck was that…” he mumbles and peeks up from his folded arms, voice being muffled in between the folds of his clammy skin, “I seriously thought I was going to get killed…”

Peering warily at the moonless sky, Kyungsoo pulls his knees closer to his chin. He closes his eyes and tries not to think too much of the event that has just transpired. He will leave at the first light of dawn, he decides; even if he will have to walk all the way back to Seoul, he will do it. Sighing again, the young man hugs himself tighter.

Vaguely, the familiar face he saw in the shadow lingers at the back of his exhausted mind as he falls asleep that night.

\---

Kyungsoo hears his door unlock and snapping his eyes open in alert, Park Chanyeol’s lanky figure appears in the line of his vision.

“Holy son of a motherfucker!” the young man shrieks at the other’s unexpected appearance. Still jumpy from last night, Kyungsoo flails about in a panic before slipping off the bed and falls to the ground.

He had the worst sleep last night; drifting between asleep and being awake, he was plagued by strange nightmares all night long.

Wincing quietly at the stabbing pain in his back, he squints at the morning sunshine streaming in through the large windows. Wary of the other’s presence, Kyungsoo quickly raises his head and meets eyes with the taller man looking down on him with contempt a few steps away.

“Uh… good morning?” The journalist says uncertainly still feeling tense from their strange encounter last night, “W-why are you in my room, Mr. Park?”

“This is not your room. Get out of my estate.”

Park Chanyeol answers curtly, not a trace of emotion in his voice or eyes as he watches the young man’s face turn from red to white, then back to red in the matter of seconds.

“W-what?” Kyungsoo gawks, “Wait, wait, wait… Are, are you kicking me out of your house?”

“Yes,” Chanyeol replies bluntly and tosses Kyungsoo’s clothes and bag at him, “You have five minutes. The car is already waiting for you outside.”

Having said what he needed to say, Park Chanyeol turns on his heels and leaves. Shocked and confused, Kyungsoo dazes out on the floor sporting dark eye bags. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he tries to rid of any lingering sleep and grasp onto the situation; was he just kicked out? Glancing at the antique grandfather clock that displayed 7:05, Kyungsoo blinks blankly a few times more before getting up from the floor. Huffing angrily as he quickly changed, the journalist makes his way downstairs within the other’s time limit.

‘Not like I want to stay any longer anyway,’ the young man scoffs as he stomps pass Park Chanyeol by the front door, ‘I don’t want to stay another minute with this psycho.’

However, when he is about to get into the same black Cadillac that had picked him up before, Kyungsoo pauses and he turns around. Hesitantly, he stares at Park Chanyeol, who is staring back at him looking extremely unfriendly. Kyungsoo cannot deny feeling slightly guilty for his behaviour last night. Sure Park Chanyeol’s reaction last night may have been too extreme, but it was exactly that: a  _reaction_. If Kyungsoo hasn’t snuck around like a thief in the night and just stayed put like how a normal guest should behave, he supposes the other man would not have turned into such a creepy asshole all of a sudden. Recalling Chanyeol’s story of his childhood, of how he grew up mostly alone and how the man finds it difficult to dealing with people, Kyungsoo feels even guiltier; and maybe just a little sympathetic. He should be thankful that Park Chanyeol has chosen him of all people to open up to and do an interview with, yet he steps out of bound and offends the man who is the ticket to his big break. Suddenly worried if he still has permission to write about his interview with Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo frowns and he closes the car door. Walking up the stone stairs until he is directly under the taller man’s scrutinizing gaze, the young journalist sighs and begins to apologize sincerely.  

“Look Mr. Park, I am really sorry for what I did last night. I know I’ve stepped out of line and invaded your privacy. It is just that you are such a fascinating person I can’t help but want to find out more about you. I am a young journalist fresh out of university and I am still learning the ropes, so would you please overlook my lack of professionalism last night? To be honest I was both shocked and honoured when you agreed to do an interview with you. This may not be a big deal to you, but it is a big deal to me. This story is the beginning of my career and right now, it is literarily  _my everything_. I want to make it perfect and I don’t want to misrepresent you in any way at all. Thus my over enthusiasm to learn more about you, but I must admit I could have taken a better approach.”

Kyungsoo lets out another half-hearted regrettable sigh. When he notices no change in Chanyeol’s expression or demeanour, he gulps and resumes his speech.

“Honestly, Mr. Park, I am very sorry for my unprofessionalism last night and I am regretting deeply for my actions. I would be extremely appreciative if you could still let me write the article and I promise, I won’t put any nonsense in the story and everything will be true to what you have told me. I won’t include anything you’d be uncomfortable sharing with the rest of the world, such your uh eclectic hobby, and I promise I will make you sound amazing. You can even read the story before I find a publisher and we can discuss any alterations you’d like to make. So won’t you please forgive me, Mr. Park? Please, I beg of you!”

The young journalist bows down sharply and his body folds into a right angle. Kyungsoo usually is too proud to beg but he understands that a real man knows when it’s necessary to lower himself. So putting his pride aside for the sake of his success in the long term, the young journalist does all he could to appeal for the other’s forgiveness.

Park Chanyeol looks thoughtfully at the bowing man in front of him before he speaks coldly,

“Have you heard of the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat?’, Mr. Doh?”

Kyungsoo raises his head and smiles awkwardly. He isn’t sure what he should say to that, so he just continues to smile. Chanyeol indiscreetly scans over the young man from head to toe before he speaks again.

“Very well, Mr. Doh, I will forgive you for what you’ve done last night. However, you must promise me something.”

“Anything, Mr. Park,” Kyungsoo replies right away as his eyes light up, “Anything that I could do within my abilities, I’ll do it.”

An ambiguous smile slowly stretches across Chanyeol’s handsome face as he holds the eager journalist in regard.

“You have to become one of my friends.”

“You want us to be friends?” Kyungsoo asks in disbelief, “even though you were just really mad at me?” 

“No. I asked you to  _become_ one of my friends.”

Chanyeol repeats himself seriously while still smiling, and Kyungsoo frowns a little feeling confused.

“Isn’t that the same thing, become one of your friends and be friends with you?”

“No it’s not, it’s very different. I need you to  _become_  one of my friends.”

The taller man says the same thing again and Kyungsoo’s frown deepens. Maybe he just doesn’t understand rich people, he thinks, but quickly decides not to dwell on the matter any longer. He doesn’t quite understand the implication behind Park Chanyeol’s request but he supposes there could only be more pros than cons having the taller man as a friend; even though he is really creepy at times, acts like a psycho when he is mad and likes stuffed, dead animals.

‘But he is famous and he will lead you to success,’ the greed inside of him whispers, ‘he can make your dreams come true.’

“Okay, done. I will become one of your friends.”

Kyungsoo smiles politely and extend a hand outward. At the other’s words, the smile on Park Chanyeol’s face widens and something flickers in his eyes before disappearing as quickly as it has appeared.

“Great,” the taller man says calmly and accepts the handshake, “See you soon, Kyungsoo.”

“Ah, actually before I go, could I ask one more question?” the young journalist grins shyly, giving a slight tug on their connected hands, “Since I am  _one_  of your friends now, will I get to meet your other friends?”

Chanyeol blinks and questions flatly in return.

“Would you like to meet them?”

“Well, yes. That’s why I am asking,” Kyungsoo chuckles lightly, “I’d love to meet them. Actually if I could meet them soon it would be even better. I’d like to get their opinion of you as well; you know, to add to the complexity of the article. Do you think I can meet them?”

Park Chanyeol blinks again and instead of giving the journalist an answer, he pulls out a memo pad and a pen from the inner pocket of his jacket. Taking his time, he writes down a list of ten names on the note pad then tearing the page off the binding, he hands the loose paper to the young man. Looking down at the paper in his hand, Kyungsoo smiles broadly at the elegant handwriting.

“Thanks, uh, could I call you Chanyeol?” the young man asks carefully and the taller man nods. Kyungsoo’s face lights up even more.

“Ah, I guess I’ll have to find them myself? You didn’t give me their phone number or email contact… Okay, no worries. I understand you must be very busy all the time so I can just meet with them myself. Unless they are all here right now and because you are a little mad about last night, you’re not letting me meet them and make me go on a hunt for them instead? Hahahaha…”

Kyungsoo jokes but his laughter soon falters when Chanyeol simply stares at him with another hard to read smile on his face. Clearing his throat, the young man fidgets awkwardly and the two falls into other lapse of silence.

“Good bye, Kyungsoo. See you soon.” The taller man breaks the quiet a few seconds later and he gestures Kyungsoo towards the car that is still waiting for him. Not wanting to overstay his welcome any longer, the journalist quickly bids his goodbye and hops into the car.

Watching as the black Cadillac disappears around the bend, Park Chanyeol’s eyes come alive as excitement shines vividly in his dark orbs. A quiet laughter rumbles from the depth of his throat and gradually, his laugh becomes louder and sounding more and more insane. Puffs of heavy clouds roll by in the sky and block the sun; shadows cover the entire estate ground. In the distance, a flock of crow takes flight and their ominous caws accompany fittingly to Chanyeol’s maniacal cackle, echoing through the dense forest. 

Soon.

\---

It has only been five days since Kyungsoo left the estate.

He didn’t think he’d be back so soon. Yet here he is, sitting in his car parked right outside the castle in the woods. Taking another draw from the cigarette, Kyungsoo exhales deeply and lets wisps of smoke fill up the inside of his car. His stomach wrenches painfully. He rarely smokes, unless he is extremely stressed or nervous.

He had a full pack when he was leaving Seoul and now he is already on his last one.

Absentmindedly, Kyungsoo takes another long drag. The map on the palm-size screen gradually dims until it turns completely black as the phone locks. A week ago, he made a bookmark of the estate’s coordinates on Google Map just in case; he’s glad he had some foresight. Eyes glazed over as his head buzzed nosily with overlapping thoughts, Kyungsoo braces himself to go and knock on the door.

An agitated voice screams impatiently in his buzzing head: ‘You already made the three-hours drive here, so man up and get going! There is no mistake. This is what you think it is! All you need to do is just find a bit of evidence, any proof at all, and you’d have it! This will be your big break!’

However, another part of him is thinking otherwise: ‘Remember what he said last time, curiosity killed the cat. You’re not a detective but a journalist; give up and go home. It’s not worth it. He’s also crazy; you’ve seen what is he capable of. He will destroy you if he finds out what you’re up to. This story is not worth putting your life in jeopardy.’

The sensation of skin being scorched by fire brings Kyungsoo back to reality and hissing painfully, he drops the cigarette bud into the small ashtray in his car. Sucking carefully around the burnt area on his finger, the young journalist curses silently. Outside, the sun is setting in the horizon and like a canvas, the sky is painted bloody red by the dying lights. Several crows perch quietly on the roof of the estate and they peer down at him with opaque beady eyes. Once in a while, they’d caw loudly and nod their heads up and down, as if mocking Kyungsoo for his cowardice. The young man frowns in disgust and he glares at the black birds. They have no rights to judge him because they will never understand the amount of pressure he is under right now. Fear has been growing inside of him like a cancerous tumour and it is slowly killing him. 

It started two days ago, when Kyungsoo was writing up the story on Park Chanyeol in his neighbourhood coffee shop.

His notes littered across the coffee table, he diligently drafted up the article on his computer. Then an old university friend walked in and he joined Kyungsoo at his table as they naturally started to catch up. Their talks drifted from here to there, and it didn’t take long before his friend noticed the list of names written by Chanyeol on the table. In particular, the friend was surprised to see the name “Kim Junmyeon” on there. Having caught on to his friend’s unusual interest in that name, Kyungsoo asked if he knew someone named Kim Junmyeon.

“Mmm, a senior from my club back in university was named Kim Junmyeon. I remember his name really well because Junmyeon is a pretty unique name, you know, it sounds like a name of a young master. Anyways, it caught my attention because I just heard from another senior recently that Kim Junmyeon sunbae has been missing for the past half a year already. Apparently he went to meet someone for work and just evaporated into thin air! Ah, but he is a grown man so who knows if he had eloped with a secret lover or something. He doesn’t look the type but you can never tell about a person from their looks, can you?”

The friend laughed as he sipped on his coffee and Kyungsoo chuckled dryly too. However this news made him feel extremely uneasy and even long after his friend had left, he could not help but continue to think about it. Surely, he thought, it is just a coincidence that his friend’s sunbae has the same name; Junmyeon as a name really isn’t that unique. But the more he tried to ignore it, the more anxious he felt. Finally he gave in to his nagging instinct and texted his friend, wondering if he had a picture of this Kim Junmyeon. Perplexed but did not refuse, his friend promised he’d look through old photos.

The next day, his friend sent a photo and impatiently, Kyungsoo clicked open the thumbnail. In the picture, there were three men smiling and standing side by side with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Scanning from left to right, the young journalist immediately recognized the man furthest left as his friend. A stranger he had never met before was in the middle and when his eyes fell on the man standing furthest right, Kyungsoo’s face paled. He had seen the man’s face before. An exemplar flower boy, the man in the photo was so handsome it was hard not to remember his face.

Perturbed, the journalist minimized the photo and dreadfully, he read over his friend’s message that came with the phone.

“The man standing furthest right is Kim Junmyeon sunbae. Why do you want a see a picture of him anyway?”

The phone slipped from Kyungsoo’s hands and dropped into his laps. A wave of cold sweat washed all over him as he stared wide eyes at the list of names in elegant handwritings. For a brief moment, he remained immobile in his seat as a million thoughts flashed through his mind. Then after his hands had stopped shaking so badly, he opens a new window on his computer and slowly typed the list of names into the search bar one by one. Until the sun went all the way across the sky, from east to west, Kyungsoo rubbed at his temples and connected the dots.

The displays, his  _friends_ , the doll house, the figure in the shadow, and the mysterious smile; Kyungsoo let out a hollow laugh as he leaned back into his chair. He had discovered something he really should not know of. All of it seemed as if it was taken out of a murder mystery novel, but it wasn’t. It was the reality and Park Chanyeol’s life. Sitting in the dark as he lit up a cigarette, Kyungsoo tried to calm down and considered his options. He could leave it and delete everything he has searched and written. He could erase his memories of his visit and never see Park Chanyeol again for as long as he lives.

Or, he could gather evidence and expose Park Chanyeol of his dirty deeds. He could be the Roger Cook of the 21st Century and the real life Mikael Blomkvist. Why couldn’t he, Kyungsoo thought of as he narrowed his eyes in the night. He knew he always had what it takes to make it big, but he just lacked the right opportunity. But not anymore. Slowly, he inhaled from the cigarette again.

“The time is now…” he mumbled and stared intensely at the hundreds of tabs opened on his computer screen, “it’s your time to shine, Kyungsoo…”

The next day, the journalist embarked on the journey to visit Park Chanyeol again. He arrived since three hours ago and now the sun has already disappeared beneath the horizon. The world has darkened and shadows loom over everything. Still perched on the rooftop and in nearby trees, the crows blink silently at the nervous young man sitting inside of his smoky car.

Kyungsoo takes one last glance at the estate before he finally gets out of his car. Chewing on his bottom lip, he fingers the Swiss army knife in his pocket. Better safe than sorry, he thinks. One step, two steps, and three; he climbs up the stone stairs and stands in front of the large walnut doors. There isn’t even a light beneath the awning and Kyungsoo takes another deep breathes in the dark. It is now or never.

Suddenly, one of the heavy doors swings open slowly with a dull creak and Park Chanyeol appears on the inside. Soft candle lights from the chandelier illuminates ever grand foyer and the taller man is all smiles. Nervously, Kyungsoo clenches his teeth and tiles his chin upward, his facial expression stoic and rigid.

“Kyungsoo, how nice to see you again,” Chanyeol says happily, showing off his pearly whites, “come on in.”

Nodding courteously, Kyungsoo walks in cautiously with his hands tuck inside his pockets. He grips onto the army knife in his clammy hand. 

“You’ve impeccable timing I must say. You’re just in time!”

Chanyeol chuckles and the taller man’s exceptional good mood make the young man feel even tenser. Frowning, he asks quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“You wanted to meet my other friends, right? Well, they are all here tonight!” the smiling man says as he walks further into the estate.

Stopping abruptly at the arch leading down the main hallway Park Chanyeol turns around and smiles mischievously like a boy hiding a secret. His eyes are shinning too bright and he doesn’t bother to hide the crazy inside anymore.

“I knew you’d come back, Kyungsoo. Come join us, you promised you would.”

Eyes widened and jaw clenched tighter, the young journalist tries really hard not to start shaking in front of Park Chanyeol. Fear suddenly clears his mind of the pride and greed that has been blinding him, and he regrets deeply for coming back to the estate. Why did he think it was a good idea to come back again?

‘Oh right,’ Kyungsoo thinks sarcastically and mentally slaps himself, ‘fame and prestige. Of course, all of those things are so much more important than not dying at the hands of a maniac.’

Slowly, he takes tiny steps backward and edges towards the door. Maybe he still has a chance to run, he comforts himself in naivety, but it is already too late. Taking a huge stride forward, Chanyeol closes the gap between them and he grips onto Kyungsoo’s left wrist. The latter gasps and pulls out the army knife from his right pocket. Waving his arm wildly while struggling against the other’s hold on him, Kyungsoo stabs at the taller man. Chanyeol ducks all the attacks and with a swift chop, he knocks the knife out of the young man’s hand. Then twisting both arms over the other’s head, he half drags and half lifts Kyungsoo down the dark hallway towards the only lit up room at the end. The journalist curses at his capturer at the top of his lung while screeching painfully every few seconds. His desperate cries resound throughout the castle and echoes pitifully in all the empty rooms.

When Chanyeol finally pulls his victim inside the room, he tosses him on the ground and the young man’s body slams hard onto the hardwood floor. Dusting his hands off, Chanyeol closes the door and locks it. Having the air knocked out of him, Kyungsoo hacks uncontrollably on the ground as his eyes water up. Struggling to sit up, he quickly surveys his surrounding and realizes he is inside the dining room. A few feet away in the middle, twelve antique dining chairs are placed around a long wooden table piled with food and ten of the seats are already occupied; only the head of the table and the seat left of it are still empty.

Park Chanyeol walks from behind and delivers a swift kick to Kyungsoo’s back, knocking the young man to the floor again. Then taking out a long silk scarf from his pocket, he straddles the journalist’s lower back and binds his hands together.

“Kyungsoo, stop moving so much or else you are going to be bruised,” the taller man pants as he ties the scarf in a dead knot. Kyungsoo tries to struggle free but he is overpowered; Park Chanyeol is a full head taller than him and his frame is at least a size bigger than the journalist’s. Wiggling desperately against the varnished floor, the young man grunts in frustration.

“I said stop moving, fuck!” Chanyeol yells by Kyungsoo’s ears and the latter freezes for a split second, before yelling back in an even louder voice.

Annoyed, the taller man gets up from the ground and walks around to face his victim. Scowling at the other’s red-rimmed glaring eyes, he grabs a handful of Kyungsoo’s hair and relishes the silkiness in between his fingers. Then with a forceful pull, he lifts the journalist to his feet and the latter’s voice chokes in his throat. Watching as the man in his hand gasps painfully, Chanyeol brings their face closely together. Slowly looking over the young man’s pale, fuming face, examining for any injuries, Chanyeol smirks again when he does not find any. As a single tear rolls down Kyungsoo’s smooth cheek, the psychotic man licks it clean, making the journalist shudder involuntarily at the temperature and texture of his tongue.

“Be a good boy, hm? I don’t want to damage you unnecessarily.” Chanyeol whispers as he tilts Kyungsoo’s head backward by tugging on his hair. Walking backwards, he slowly leads his victim towards the table. He plops the young man down in the empty seat on the side and wraps a thick nylon rope around him, securely binding his body to the chair. Giving a firm pat on Kyungsoo’s fidgeting shoulders Park Chanyeol circles around to the back and leans down until their heads are side by side. Grabbing the journalist by the chin, he forcefully shifts the other’s head towards the ten figures also seated at the table. Kyungsoo’s red-rimmed eyes widen in fear as he realizes who they are.

“Everyone, this is Kyungsoo who is going to become our new friends,” Park Chanyeol says gently as if speaking to a group of children, “and Kyungsoo, there are my friends and they will also be your friends in the future.”

Ten human taxidermies of eerie perfection are sitting around the table. Aside from the slightly ashy tone of their skin and the void in their glass eyes, they look almost exactly the same as when they were alive. Blankly, the corpses stare into nothing and in front of each of them, a doll from Chanyeol’s childhood doll house is sitting on the plate. Kyungsoo’s entire body begins to shake as he notices the resemblance between the human corpses and the dolls placed in front of them. Going around the table, Chanyeol introduces each of his most prized possessions to his trembling victim.

“This is Minseok.”

_‘Kim Minseok was last seen in the convenience store where he part-timed at…_

“This is Luhan.”

_‘The police are still looking for the missing Chinese exchange student…’_

“This is Yifan.”

_‘Mr. Wu Yifan, a business man from Canada, has been missing for over three months…”_

“This is Junmyeon.”

_‘Sunbae has been missing for half a year now since he went to meet someone for work…’_

“This is Yixing.”

_‘Zhang Yixing is the third case of foreigners vanishing without a trace while traveling in Korea…‘_

“This is Jongdae.”

_‘The friends and family of Kim Jongdae tell reporters they still haven’t given up the search…’_

“This is Baekhyun.”

‘ _New SM Entertainment trainee is reported missing after leaving the company…’_

“This is Jongin.”

_‘Rising star of Seoul’s Ballet Company vanishes into thin air…’_

“This is Tao.”

_‘The police are still investigating the missing case of Huang Zitao, a tourist who visited Seoul during the last Christmas holidays…”_

“This is Sehun.”

_‘It has been five years since police abandoned the mysterious case of missing high school student…”_

“And of course, you are also here now,” Chanyeol whispers and rubs their cheeks together, “Kyungsoo, my favourite.”

Slowly with love, he runs a finger over Kyungsoo’s plump, shivering lips. Then tilting the other’s face downward, Park Chanyeol forces the young man to look at the doll sitting crookedly on the empty plate in front of them. Facing directly at Kyungsoo, the doll holds an uncanny likeness to him and its wide glass eyes that reflect the shadows in the night stare vacantly into the journalist’s soul.

“Do you know how hard I work to collect my friends?” The taller man asks seriously, his eyes also trained on the lifeless doll, “I worked extremely hard! When I turned sixteen, I realize it is time to graduate playing with dolls and find real friends. But humans who move and breathe really are too annoying. So I thought what if they behave just like dolls? Thank goodness for the taxidermy or I think I’d really be all alone without any friends.”

Chanyeol cackles madly as he walks to the front of the chair again. Straddling Kyungsoo, he wraps his arms around the journalist’s stiff neck and smiles brightly, sparkles of insanity dancing vividly in his unblinking eyes.  

“I’m so glad I finally found you, Kyungsoo. I looked everywhere for you for the past six years. One by one, my friends joined me in the estate, but I couldn’t find you for the longest time. As you know, you’re my favourite so until I have you, I cannot be satisfied. Then finally, God has heard my prayers! He sent you to me and now, now I can have you all to myself…”

Kyungsoo takes in a shaky breathe and shuts his eyes, avoiding the other’s crazed gaze of possessiveness and obsession. He refuses to accept his fate and does not want to give up just yet. ‘I’m not ready to die; I’m not supposed to die’ his mind shouts despairingly, ‘not here and not like this.’ He has yet to fulfill his dream of becoming a real journalist.

Opening his eyes again, he glares tearfully at the man sitting on his laps and desperately, he begins to squirm in the chair again but with no avail. Amused by his victim’s perseverance, Chanyeol simply watches as the poor man struggle helplessly. When the journalist slumps into the chair, panting with fatigue, the entertained capturer claps slowly and congratulates the young man for his efforts.

“And now, your prize for being so persistent.”

Chanyeol closes the gap between them in a swift move and crashes his lips against Kyungsoo’s. The young journalist grimaces and presses his lips together, turning his head away from the kiss that makes his sick to his stomach. Unfazed by the other’s rejection, Park Chanyeol grabs hold of Kyungsoo’s cheeks and squeezes harshly, making the journalist groan in agony. Feeling his air flow becoming increasingly limited as his capturer cruelly presses against his oesophagus, Kyungsoo’s mouth finally gasps open and he wheezes against the unwanted kiss. Dizzy from the lack of oxygen, the young man vaguely feels a pill being pushed on top of his tongue and weakly, he tries to break the kiss and spit it out. However, Chanyeol deepens the kiss and tilts his head as far backward as possible, until the tiny pill slips into Kyungsoo’s throat, almost choking him as he swallows it.

Chanyeol pulls away and satisfied with the kiss, he gives his victim a gentle pet on the head, while Kyungsoo coughs violently as more tear well up in his eyes. Tilting his head sideway and smiling like a child enjoying his new toy, the psychotic man gently wipes away the saliva residue around the corner of the journalist’s plump lips. Exhausted and humiliated, Kyungsoo shuts his eyes again and let his tears fall silently.

His head is buzzing again and gradually, his limbs begin to tingle with numbness. There is only the sound of the journalist’s laboured panting and Chanyeol’s evening breathing in the large room, despite the many bodies sitting with them.

“Hey, do you know how to make the perfect friend?”

The capturer questions his victim suddenly and Kyungsoo ignores him. Receiving no answer even after a long while, Park Chanyeol shrugs and traces his finger across the young man’s forehead, down the side of his jaw, and all the way down the length of Kyungsoo’s neck. The latter shudders at his capturer’s delicate touches and feathery tingles tickle at the trail of skin where he was touched. Chanyeol narrows his eyes and whispers in a husky voice.

“First, you measure.”

Continuing downward, both of Chanyeol’s hand caresses over Kyungsoo’s limp body, gliding over his chest, arms, and abdomen then to his legs. With every touch, the journalist shakes uncontrollably in disgust. However, he no longer has any strength to object physically. Grunting quietly, he narrows his eyes at the smirking man still sitting on his laps and his vision blurs a little.

“What did you feed me…” Kyungsoo mumbles in a small hoarse voice and frowns. Park Chanyeol’s smirk just widens as he chooses to ignore the question.

Picking up a steak knife from the table, the psychotic man licks the tip of it and winks at the distressed young man fading in front of him. In a swift move, Chanyeol stabs at the young man and he halts abruptly just before the tip of the knife touches the throat. Kyungsoo’s body stiffens and hyper aware of the knife merely a hair away from his skin, his breathe hitches. Gulping anxiously, as his Adam’s apple shifts up and down, his neck barely scratches against the cold metal and Kyungsoo’s mind breaks down a little. Carefully observing the growing terror in his victim’s eyes, Chanyeol slowly withdraws his arm and presses a finger against the sharp tip of the knife.

“Then, you bleed it.”

The psychotic man says as a drop of blood oozes from his wound and lifting it in front of Kyungsoo’s wide eyes, he paints it crudely on the journalist’s drying lips. The metallic taste of blood enters Kyungsoo’s mouth and his stomach wrenches at the raw flavour. He wants to spit it out but his tongue is already too numb to move. Blinking slowly as his body slumps into the chair, Kyungsoo frowns softly at the taller man smiling proudly at him.

“Next, you skin it.”

Chanyeol continues to talk and presses the cold knife against Kyungsoo’s forearm. The latter shudders as the smooth side of the blade glides against his skin, following the structure of his bones. The image of a pig being deboned he had seen as a child enters his mind, and Kyungsoo dry gags as he imagines Park Chanyeol performing similar acts on human bodies. Shaking his head to rid of the horrifying scene, he struggles to keep his head upright as monotonous ringing sounds louder in his ears. He feels sleepy all of a sudden and biting on the inside of his cheeks, he blinks constantly to keep his eyes open. Watching as Kyungsoo’s eyes veil over with haziness, Chanyeol smiles fondly and stands up. Leaning against the edge of the long wooden table, he twirls the knife carelessly in his hand and casually observes the man in front of him.

Numbness has settled throughout the journalist’s body and paralyzed to his seat, he is barely able to keep his head up. But still, he glares weakly at the man quietly watching him suffer. Before long, he loses even the last of his strength and his head drops as his chest heaves up and down rhythmically. The night is deathly silent, like always, and Chanyeol places the knife down. Picking up the doll instead, he kneels in front of the bound man and bounces the doll lightly on his lap, as if the lifeless figurine is dancing.

“Lastly, you stuff it,” Park Chanyeol whispers and watches as the young man blinks sluggishly at the doll, “And that’s how you make the perfect friend.”

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Kyungsoo listens to the other’s deep voice drift around him like in a dream. A single tear rolls down his pale cheeks and his mouth slightly agape, he mumbles something incoherent. Does not want to hear other words from his victim, the psychotic man presses a finger against the bloody lips and shushes him.

Then blinking one last time, Kyungsoo shuts his eyes and he descends into darkness.

Park Chanyeol gets up from the ground and he hugs the doll in his hands close to his chest. Glancing around at the full table, a genuine smile stretches across his handsome face and he lets out a satisfied sigh. He takes his seat at the head of the table and raises his glass of wine.

“To friendship,” he toasts happily at the frozen corpses with glass eyes, “Cheers!”

\---

Chanyeol stands emotionlessly in front of his large estate, his castle in the woods. He pushes the set of dark walnut doors open and a whining creak resounds throughout the empty hallways. Heels clicking against marble tiles, he walks through his home as pale moonlight streams in through the large windows, guiding him from room to room. For each of the room he enters, he carefully checks over the condition of the room and the condition of its silent occupant. All the corpses are meticulously taken care of and their unique characteristics are perfectly preserved. It is as if they are still human. As hollow glass eyes embedded in familiar faces greet him without a word, he greets them back by giving a gentle caress over their silky hair. Locked away from the world by his own free will, Chanyeol takes his time visiting each of the human corpses he has collected. They are his friends and companions, the ones he’d speak to and share secrets with late at night. Without them, he would truly be alone.

In the grand master bedroom, his favourite friend Kyungsoo, a young man with wide eyes and pouty lips is lying flat on the bed. Walking up to the freshly preserved corpse, Chanyeol sits down carefully on the edge of the bed. A smile stretches across his handsome face but it does not reach his dark eyes. As with the others, he caresses Kyungsoo’s silky hair with his boney hand and unblinkingly, his gaze traces over the soft outline of the young man’s flawlessly preserved face. When he is satisfied, he climbs into the other side of the bed and slips beneath the cover, lying side by side with the stiff corpse. Holding on to the cold hand beside him, Chanyeol shuts his eyes in peace. Moonlight scatters throughout the room and dusts everything in a veil of silver.

“Good night, Kyungsoo and everyone else,” he whispers in the dark and the smile on his face stretches a little wider, “good night my friends, sleep well.”

Then, there is only silence. 

\---

**FIN.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Are you a least a little scared?


End file.
